


Sheva, 1047 A.S.

by carmenta



Category: Coldfire - Friedman
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-01
Updated: 2006-12-01
Packaged: 2017-10-08 05:55:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/73416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carmenta/pseuds/carmenta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neighbourhood conflict resolution, Hunter stlye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sheva, 1047 A.S.

Why was it so difficult to honour agreements, when everybody clearly benefited from doing so? It would be understandable if one side stood to gain more than they risked if the terms of the contract were broken. But such gain had to be weighed carefully before deciding that it was worth the subsequent punishment.

Idly, the Hunter wondered whether this tendency to rebel against reasonable treaties would one day be mankind's downfall. Maybe life on Earth had taken such a course? After seven centuries of observation, he was certain that this inability men showed when it came to obeying the stipulations of contracts was consistent. It almost seemed that the more severe the penalty for misconduct, the more likely it was that an agreement would be broken.

Mankind, he reasoned, was irrational in nature.

It was the only explanation he had as to why anyone would be foolish enough to violate the pact he had proposed to the settlements surrounding Jahanna when he had chosen the area for his new project. The territory was not to be trespassed upon, and in exchange the towns and villages on the borders had no need to fear eradication. At times a woman was taken for the Hunt; a condition which was balanced, in the Hunter's eyes, by granting the villagers permission to do as they wished should they capture a servant of the Forest.

Safety of territory; individuals could look out for themselves. It should have been a satisfactory agreement for both sides. And yet, merely two centuries later, twenty men had been foolish enough to think that they could enter the Forest and slay its master.

When he had discovered the intruders and they had been brought to confess their intentions, the Hunter had at first found it hard to believe that anyone was capable of such idiocy.

However, the twenty bound men before him proved that it was possible.

"I assume you have an explanation for your presence within the Forest's borders," he said icily. Divinations and Knowings had already told him all there was to know from these men, but he found himself unwilling to simply put an end to this matter.

None of the men spoke, and none of them would meet his eyes when he surveyed them. Not so brave anymore when faced with who they had intended to fight, it seemed. They did not speak, either, but that was due to the Workings that had been placed upon them when their screaming had begun to grate.

The Hunter calmly drew his sword. At the sound, several of the prisoners flinched, but they still neither tried to answer nor looked up. Their fear betrayed them, though, turning the fae dark and quick-flowing around them. It rushed towards the Hunter, drawn to his own darkness, and he felt the flow of pleasure as he le it twine around his senses for an instant.

"So impolite," he chided. "It is only polite to react when spoken to."

The manners of the Revivalist period had faded far too quickly, he reflected as he beheaded the first man with one swift sword stroke. The head fell forward, the body pitched to the side and onto the man kneeling next to him.

Screams now, muffled by the Working, struggles and gasps. The Hunter waited, watching as the blood pooled on the numarble tiles of the Keep's central courtyard.

He hadn't intended to bring the prisoners here, but when he had seen their fervent, almost fanatic desire to reach the Forest's centre, he had found it amusingly ironic to let them reach their goal and then turn their success into sheer defeat as they learned the price of their folly.

Even after he relaxed the fae grip on the men, no answer was forthcoming, and so he moved on to the second man. The Worked blade cut easily, the sharp edges enforced by the fae bound into the metal.

"Stop it!" one of the prisoners screamed. "Stop it!"

The Hunter turned towards him and studied the man. Not so young anymore that he could be excused for a lack of experience, with the hands and dark-tanned face of a farmer. Had they underestimated him so much that they thought they had thought it would be enough to send peasants after him?

"I asked a question," he said calmly and moved on to the third prisoner.

"You monster!" the man continued to shout. "You took our daughters!"

The Hunter stepped back to keep his boots clear of the spreading blood.

"Just so," he said. "And in turn you break our agreement?"

"You broke it first!"

Angrily he advanced upon the man. "I followed it to the letter," he hissed. "No violation of territory. My servants have never attacked your homes, and yet I find you here with the intent of killing me and burning down the Forest." He paused. "Tell me, why should I not ride out and retaliate?"

The man was silent, the fear and hate pouring off him in waves strong enough to make the currents sing as they trembled.

A few steps brought the Hunter back to where he had been interrupted.

Another head rolled. And another.

The sixth man looked at him, his face wrought with fear.

"Please," he whispered. "I have children."

The Hunter tilted his head. "So did I," he said, then brought down the sword again.

Another two men died silently, then another one spoke.

"They made me do it," he whispered. "They said that if I didn't come, they wouldn't protect my home."

Protect? With crude wards and cruder weapons, no doubt. Such foolish, foolish men.

"So what would you have me do?" the Hunter asked.

The man stared at him.

"Should I kill them before I kill you? Should I leave you alive while they all die?" He smiled a little. "Perhaps the latter would be interesting to witness. I doubt the people of Sheva will look kindly upon the sole survivor, especially if they can be made to suspect that he had something to do with what happened. Humans can react so irrationally."

"Please…"

The Hunter shook his head. "No," he said. "You turn your back on them, and I have no patience for traitors."

When this man died, the Hunter took a moment to look at the corpses. Ten dead men, due to their blind faith that they could succeed. A lesson had to be made of them; it wouldn't do to see this situation repeat itself.

It would be so much simpler if they would just learn to listen. The agreement hadn't been unfair, and neither had it been hard to understand. Anyone living on the Forest's borders and insisting to stay should realize that this was only for their best. They managed to live with their neighbours on an individual level, so certainly it had to be possible on a larger scale. Especially since the alternative was an all-out war, and the Hunter had no wish to let it come to that. It would tie up his attention for so long, when he had more important matters to deal with.

He did not permit the next men to speak before he killed them, just took their heads and then moved on.

The thirteenth was the one who had talked first.

"I did not take your daughter," he said after a quick Knowing. "None of yours. And even if I had, you would have had no right to break our agreement, not without having to fear consequences."

"We never agreed to anything," the man cried.

"Your ancestors did," the Hunter snapped, "when they chose to stay. They knew. And they told their children." He smiled slightly, then raised the sword again. The coldfire reflected brightly in the man's wide eyes for a moment before they went dim.

"Fool," the Hunter whispered, then moved to the next man. And the next.

Their deaths were almost too easy, too kind, but he didn't have the patience to draw it out. They died in terror, which had to be enough.

That, and what he intended to do to ensure that nobody would trespass for at least a few generations.

Another head on the ground. Blood was everywhere now; he would have to Work the courtyard tiles afterwards, Cleanse them properly.

A gesture and one of the Keep's servants stepped out from one of the doorways, his expression blank.

The four remaining men, however, stared at him with eyes wide in fear. The Hunter eased his grip on them a little.

"Mical," one of them whispered, then almost choked when the fae cut him off again.

"He agreed to serve me in exchange for being permitted to live after he entered the Forest," the Hunter said. Another fool; it was a good thing that he didn't require his servants to be intelligent. They were useful, but not more; their lack of rebellious intellect made it easy to keep a close hold on their mind. Once broken, they would obey.

Two more heads hit the ground, and the Hunter frowned in distaste as e saw the splatter of blood on his tunic. A wave of his hand and the red spots were gone, but he was still displeased.

"What will you do?" one man gasped when the Hunter allowed it.

The Hunter brushed at his sleeve, then beheaded the man.

He allowed the last one to scream for a little while until the noise became offensive.

"Your people will know what happened," he said, "and they will have enough incentive to never do this again."

He wished he could believe that they would listen that well.

The last man obviously believed him, though; he was shaking with panic, his eyes screwed tightly shut. Delicious fear, so rich now that he knew exactly what was going to happen to him in the next moments.

The Hunter drew it out, smiling as the man lost himself within his own mind. Fear could be such a curious thing.

He raised the sword. Held still for a moment, then brought the blade down.

Twenty men had come, thinking to kill him. Twenty beheaded bodies in a dark red pool of blood, glistening in the light of Erna's three moons.

"Cut out their tongues," he ordered his servant, "and the eyes. Then take the heads to Sheva and leave them where they will be found." He turned away, towards the Keep's main portal, then paused. "And dispose of the bodies. The new trees near the south wall should be able to handle the decomposition quickly."

As his servant bowed and did as he was told, the Hunter left the courtyard and returned to the experiments that had been so rudely interrupted.

They would learn, the people of Sheva. Eventually, they would learn.


End file.
